


No Secrets from a Werewolf

by TheLovelyPatronus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, F/M, Sad, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 15:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLovelyPatronus/pseuds/TheLovelyPatronus





	No Secrets from a Werewolf

Nymphadora Tonks sat at the window of her mother’s house staring at the full moon. Her hand resting peacefully over her stomach. She had much on her mind these days. The war was looming ever closer and soon they would all need to be ready to fight.

She looked to the moon again. It wasn’t fair that she sat here, happy and in love, when so many others were dead or mourning. She could feel Remus in the forest behind her mother’s house. She always hated the nights of the full moon. Every change brought him so much pain. Pain she wished she could take onto herself, if only to spare him.

They would be alright, she thought to herself. They would live long and happy lives with their son. She hadn’t told Remus about her pregnancy yet. It was hard enough to get the man to admit his feelings for her long enough to get married. No, this little bit of news would wait until she was certain he could handle it.

She knew what his fears were. He was terrified that he would pass along the lycanthropy gene to their child. It was silly, and it was proven that you had to be bitten. The passing of the gene only happened to one out of a thousand children. She was confident that their son would be a Metamorphmagus like herself.

She fell asleep while staring at the moon, still caressing her stomach. All was peaceful in Andromeda’s house.

* * *

Remus Lupin was running, running, running. The smell of the forest thick in his nose. The taste of blood from some poor forest creature still on his tongue. He was an unusual werewolf. As most of them gave themselves over to the base animal instinct, Remus would never allow it. His strength of mind made sure that he was always aware while in this form, even if it was the barest touch of control. Lest he hurt an innocent.

He looked up at the moon and howled, the sound mournful. He sang for James and Sirius who had died too young. For Harry who was thrust into a war that was not his to fight. For all of the dead and soon to be murdered at the hands of a madman who fashioned himself a Lord. But most of all he sang for his Nymphadora. The stubborn witch who wouldn’t take no for an answer. The one who fought tooth and nail to get him to admit that he deserved happiness. She cared little for the angry looks and hurtful words thrown her way.

She was his salvation, for she had given him the one thing he thought he’d never have. A family. She thought he didn’t know about the life growing inside of her. He let her hide it, waiting for her to find the right time to tell him.

Alas, werewolf hearing and smell would not allow it to be a secret. He had heard the second heartbeat fluttering weeks before she herself had found out. He had smelled the knew scent of hormones previously absent.

He had cried, he had begged merlin that his child not be cursed like he was. He had worried and lost sleep over the life he was forcing upon this innocent child and it’s mother.

He howled once more, minutes before the sun came up and he turned back to his human form. He howled for himself this time. For he was loved and appreciated and that in itself was the greatest feeling he had ever known


End file.
